


Forget it

by BardsAmbrosia



Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Coping, Denial, F/M, Gen, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardsAmbrosia/pseuds/BardsAmbrosia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rape scene changed from original in the comic.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Forget it

**Author's Note:**

> Rape scene changed from original in the comic.

**Shell shock**.

That's what he felt.

He focuses on the pain-- the only thing that's reality. The rain taping on his visible skin and on his second skin--his suit, lightly stabbing him. Continuous and surreal. He can't speak nor can he move. An unfamiliar sting down below. He'll forget this-- he'll try to kill it all away soon, but he'll remember _everything_. 

Tarantula whispers something demented, breathlessly over him, goes hovering over his ear, "I love you." Her fingers--gloved; nails sinking into his back through them. Hardly feeling it, hardly feeling the cold stone under his cheek. His head lifelessly still, his eyes hidden beneath his mask and wet and wide. They grow wider and twitch with every shove of the blunt object Tarantula pushes into his once untouched orifice. 

"Just you and me--" She starts and he stops listening, staring into space. He's there and not there. She shoves it deeper, it hits something _different_ and he groans deep in his chest. Its ever so slightly pleasurable beneath the stabbing pain and it disgusts him. Too much pain to fully enjoy it and its the wrong time and place. It feels wrong. _Very wrong._

He just wants to disappear. Momentarily, he thinks he should have stayed in Gotham. A brief moment of what pride is still left inside him dies. 

Tarantula suddenly pulls out the object and he opens his mouth in a silent yell. She throws it somewhere, it can be heard hitting a vent or wall with a _clank_. It thunders in the distance, lighting up the sky for a millisecond or two. Why can't it just strike her or him or both. He's not that lucky. Hes not lucky at all tonight.

The woman above presses a wet kiss to the back of his neck and pulls up his underwear and tights. She took him in a less painful way earlier, a way just alittle less traumatizing. He doesn't know how long they've been on the roof. If he was in his right mind he'd say an hour or less.

Her words are asinine. Her actions are insane. She's delusional. She says she loves him again and that she'll see him soon, her has something to do. She leaves him there like she thinks hes enjoyed it and is just tired from a good time. Like this made everything she's done-- what he's done better. He pleaded with her with the few words he could muster, "..No don't touch me. I'm--..poisonous..numb..I-." He reasoned best he could but nothing. She continued her assault upon everything that he was.

 

He's disgraced, helpless, weak, and broken. He hasn't felt like this in years, but this time it feels worse.

He can feel his toes and fingers. His body is coming back to him. 

 

It had to be him, tonight, like this.

He's angry.

He can feel his whole body now, although weak. He gets up very slowly. On his knees first and then his legs, hunched over. Lightening crackles in the sky. Noise from police sirens in the distance. He needs to find her. But not yet, he feels like throwing up but he just cries, the sound of rain covering the hushed whimpers.

 

From the apartment complex across the street you see someone on top of a building somewhat higher. Its pretty dark and the window is foggy and wet, its hard to see. Its so late--4:00 am maybe and you just can't sleep and your curiosity is easily peaked. Who would be up there in this weather...perhaps maybe one of those heros you hear about on the news sometimes. 

 

You change night clothes to something more suitable for the weather and grab an umbrella. 

 

Dick doesn't have the drive or strength to scale down the building or go home. Stewing is easier, he needs something easy. He sits at the very top, on a stone gargoyle statue decorating the edge of the office building.

 

Hes not crying anymore. Hes just tired. It hurts to sit. But it hurts more to walk. His mind is blank for now. He won't tell anyone about this, not a soul. Not Bruce nor Alfred. It's not that important to the big picture. Bluvhaven is his responsibility and he won't lose it. Bruce wouldn't trust in his abilities and strength anymore if he found out. Hes done being a child and a sidekick. Horrible things like this happen and next time he'll be more careful. He'll be ok. 

 

Soon rage boils up in his chest and he cries again. Hands sliding up the sides of his face and fingers crawling into raven, wet, and matted hair. He finally registers the headache.

 

He doesn't notice someone creeping about while he sobs. His shoulders tremble and his body slightly shakes with each hoarse cry. He's pathetic, weak, and hopeless tonight.

 

You peek from behind a concrete wall-- behind the exit protuding on top of the building. Obviously it's Nightwing. How incredible to see him this close up. But something is wrong here. Why is he sitting like that? You almost miss the tremble of his shoulders and notice his hunched over exterior.

 

Is he-- Nightwing crying?

 

You second guess getting up and making yourself known. You are scared to and also don't want the man to bolt off. You want to observe him, but also you want to speak to him. He probably won't open up to a civilian but its worth a shot.

 

You leave your umbrella on the ground and quietly move from behind the structure. You almost tip-toe closer, stopping in your tracks each time his body convulses hard. You feel your heart in your stomach and swallow nervously. Sad and nervous. _What happened_?

 

You are a few feet away when you speak. "Nightwing?" You flinch and take a foot back when he turns to you somewhat fast. He stares at you, quiet. Its nerve wrecking. You can guess hes analyzing if you're a threat or not. Noticeable his body untenses when he sees you're a regular looking person. The straight and stern look of his mouth inching into a frown.

 

"What do you want?" He asks, cold, detached. Not his usual self-- not like you would know. Bad first impression, but its irrelevant. Everything about this encounter is sullen.

 

"Uh, nothing. But I just...I wanted to see who was up here and um, that's all." It felt _off_ saying this. Like something bad happened--maybe to him? And you're just here sightseeing (humorless but birdwatching, Nightwing). "Are you ok?" The answer is obvious but common courtesy never hurt.

 

Nightwing stutters at the start, a lie. "...I'm fine. Thank you." He says, dejectedly while turning his head forward. You hardly hear the end of the sentence. He's not dangerous or evil, so you muster the courage to probe. Although, its probably rude.

 

"You're lying." You speak loud enough over the thunder and get closer. He doesn't answer you right away. Like his mind is somewhere else. His head is tipped down, looking at the lite up street below. "You can tell me, I'm pretty harmless." You lightly joke and you barely touch his shoulder before a hand swats yours away. 

 

Nightwing gets up from his perch moderately fast. You look at him from head to toe and back; hes tall and menacing. He's not happy and you regret over stepping his boundaries. But you do care.

"Never mind." He says and walks past you.

 

You're a fucking idiot because you grab his arm just as he makes it past you. You can't tell if hes glaring or surprised. All you see is the slight frown and his nose. He gently twists his arm out of your grip.

 

He's not gonna talk to a civilian about anything. Especially a stranger. "Thank you but its none of your bussiness."

"I know, sorry." You offer a weak but kind smile. The only one hes gotten tonight for which he can somewhat appreciate. "Just know that whatever bothers you you should talk to atleast one person. You might be a superhero but you're still human."

 

Nightwing was silent, looking at you and unmoving. You nervously continued. "You have emotions and feelings and you can't bottle those things up. It'll hurt you more than the person who gave you those feelings and memories. You aren't invincible and unfeeling. Don't go around acting like an unfeeling pawn....or tool of this city."

 

Nightwing clenched his fists, he lets out a airy sigh feeling his eyes water beneath his mask. You felt guilty and ever so curious. "Whatever it is-- thats bothering you...talk about it."

 

Nightwing shook his head and glanced at you one last time before turning around to walk away. He disappeared around the protuding structure-- probably scaling down the building to go hide from whatever it was that was haunting him.

 

Its still raining and lightening crackles evermore, even after you leave the area and go back home.


End file.
